


Another Reason to Believe

by wicked_writings



Category: Slipknot
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Schmoop, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-09
Updated: 2012-07-09
Packaged: 2017-11-09 12:07:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/455268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked_writings/pseuds/wicked_writings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys are recording in Houdini's 'haunted' mansion. Mick plans a night that may or may not go as it's supposed to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Reason to Believe

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of FICTION. As far as I am aware, this never happened (except in my dirty little mind, and you don't want to go there). I have no association with any of the people featured in this made-up story and I make no money from its publication. And yes, I am very ashamed.

The mansion, for all its vast size and opulent décor, was quite dark, gloomy and depressing at night. Even though the lights were lit and blazing and he could hear people moving and chattering, Mick still felt quite chilled and utterly alone as he walked the hallway from his bedroom. He knew a few of the other guys had taken the rumours of the house being haunted as fact and had sworn they'd seen things move or ghostly apparitions in the half light, but as an entirely sensible and educated person he refused to listen.

It was all toss, and besides, who was really going to have a go at him? Dead, or alive? He wasn't the size of a small bull for nothing. Even so, he quickened his pace, glancing warily into open doors as he passed. The lack of life in the mansion was unsettling, he had to admit. Shaking his head in disgust at himself, he entered the kitchen that the band was using during their stay. It was empty, which meant everyone was in the movie room and the game was about to start. And he was going to miss it if he didn't hurry up.

He pulled a couple of beers from the fridge and made his way to the movie room. He could hear his band mates before he saw them. Corey and Jim were having some sort of argument over the remote, which he suspected stemmed from Corey's dislike of sport. He entered the room just in time to snatch the remote from Corey's hand as he held it aloft in triumph. Barely needing to glance at his fellow guitarist, he tossed it to Jim in one smooth motion. Corey wailed in defeat, and Shawn had to throw a cushion at him to make him shut up.

Mick peered around the room, beers in hand, looking for a place to sit. As the last in the room he was left with the worst choice, which appeared to be the floor. And there was no way on God's good earth he was going to sit on the floor. All of the armchairs were occupied, and the solitary couch in the room was graced by Chris and Sid, were resolutely ignoring the chaos around them by making out. Not particularly keen on asking the snogging couple to 'shuffle over', he turned his attentions to the armchairs and who he could kick out of one. Shawn, Paul and Jim were too heavy to take on, Corey too angry and feisty, and Mick was worried Craig would pull a knife if he made a claim on his chair.

Joey was curled up in an oversized armchair in the far corner of the room, nearly hidden in its depth. He was the only quiet one, watching the television screen with muted interest. He was also the only one Mick would be able to shift.

“Oi! Down in front!” Corey bellowed, evidently still stinging from his loss. Mick tossed him the finger and lingered for a moment in front of him, blocking his vision for longer than if he hadn't called out. He picked his way around the chairs until he reached Joey's, surprising the tiny drummer by sitting heavily on the armrest.

“You're in my seat,” Mick growled gruffly, enjoying himself as he watched Joey start.

But the little drummer was mouthy and wiry, and composed himself quickly to glare back. “Fuck off, I got here first!”

“You were also born a midget,” Mick said matter-of-factly in response as he stood back up. It took him only a few seconds to pick up a squirming Joey and deposit him on the carpet. He sat down before Joey could reclaim the chair, smirking up at the drummer's apoplectic expression.

“Mmm... comfy!” Mick exclaimed, wriggling around to find the right spot. Joey folded in arms in mock disgust and poked his tongue out. Mick grinned, and decided to enact part two of his plan before Joey took off.

“Come here, you,” he chuckled, reaching forward to grasp Joey by the waist and pull him onto his lap. Joey laughed at the sudden close contact and nestled himself into his boyfriend's lap.

“You know, next time you could just ask,” Joey pointed out, his blue eyes shining with jest. He adjusted his position so he was straddling Mick's lap, arms around his neck.

“Yeah, but that takes the fun out of it,” Mick retorted, handing Joey one of the beers he'd placed on the floor by the chair. He gave Joey an apologetic kiss on his forehead before sipping at his drink.

“Shut up!” Shawn hissed from a nearby chair. “It's starting.”

Mick laughed when he saw Joey poke out his tongue again, this time at the percussionist. He stroked Joey's face lovingly, smiling as his partner nuzzled closer. Ignoring the start of the game that he'd been so eager to see, Mick leaned forward for a kiss. Joey's lips were soft and so very sweet, and as he knew so well, addictive. Holding him close, Mick kissed him again and again.

“RUN YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” Shawn's voice screaming in their ears startled them out of the little world they'd created for themselves. Surprised, they stared around at the others they'd forgotten about. Most of them were perched on the edge of their seats, hands curled into fists pumping the air and voices calling encouragement to the athletes on screen. Joey shook his head in bewilderment and giggled, pressing himself close to Mick and burying his head in the crook of his neck.

Mick snaked his arms around Joey, smiling at the stupidity of it all. He loved football as much as the next guy (Shawn) but there were others things in life that were far more important. Like the person curled up on his lap, who seemed awfully close to dozing off despite the festive atmosphere. Joey had never been one for sports, but he put up with Mick's love of football because that was who he was. Satisfied that Joey was happy and content, his eyes closed and a smile playing on his lips, Mick settled back to finish watching the game.

He tried hard not to disturb a napping Joey as he cheered his favourite team on, but as they scored the winning touchdown he couldn't help but nearly leap up in excitement. Just in time he remembered Joey and held on for dear life, much to the drummer's shock. Blearily, Joey poked his head up, hair mussed and eyes still half shut.

“Whasss going on?” he muttered, quite confused.

“We won!” Mick said, excitement fading reasonably quickly when he realised Joey wasn't going to share his happiness.

“Uh, that's great,” Joey replied, his face screwing up, like it often did when he had to think about football.

Mick laughed at him, smoothing down his hair and kissing him quickly on his lips.

“Aww quit it, you two!” Corey yelled, tossing the same cushion that had been thrown at him earlier at the couple. “You lot disgust me...” he said, utterly drunk and grinning his head off. Joey and Mick both knew he didn't mean a word.

“Fuck you,” Mick replied, showing him the finger for the second time that evening. Everyone laughed, cheerful at their team's win.

“Well... I drunk too much beer,” Shawn commented, grinning at Mick before getting out of his chair.

“You have a habit of doing that, bro,” Mick said, raising his bottle at Shawn's retreating back.

The guitarist drowned his beer, conscious of Joey watching him.

“You ok?” Mick asked, setting down his empty bottle. “You're awfully quiet.”

“I'm fine,” Joey said in response, shrugging his shoulders. Mick knew he wasn't telling the truth. He pulled Joey closer, hoping to kiss away the mood that had befallen the drummer. It worked, but only briefly. Seemingly reluctant to kiss in front of the others after being called out by Corey, Joey sat up, ignoring the concerned look on his partner's face. Mick rubbed his thigh gently, something that he did often that was usually successful for both cheering up Joey and initiating their departure to bed. Joey was having none of it, pushing Mick's hand away. The guitarist was spared asking a mute Joey what was wrong by the reappearance of Shawn, who gave Mick a questioning glance when he saw the moody drummer.

Mick just shrugged back at him, and then raised his eyebrows. Shawn tilted his beer in response, before setting the empty bottle on a shelf.

“Joey? You wanna go to bed?” Mick asked quietly. This at least prompted a look from Joey, who he could see wanted to leave but didn't want Mick to think he was getting lucky. “Just to sleep,” he added, pointedly.

“Ok,” Joey said after a pause. He didn't wait for Mick to help him up like he usually did, just scrambled off his lap and headed for the door. Mick had to get up quickly, not wanting the drummer to walk the hallway alone.

“Joey, wait for me.”

The drummer turned, and Mick knew he was thinking the same thing. Joey hadn't been keen on the mansion to start with, and as soon as he'd heard it was haunted he wouldn't hear a good thing about it. For someone who watched a lot of horror films, Joey wasn't quite so brave in the real world. Mick felt him slip his tiny hand into his as he reached him, and smiled down at his partner. Joey gave him a small smile in return, and Mick hoped he was at least slightly forgiven for whatever he had done. Or hadn't. Whichever.

It was cold out in the corridor now, and Mick wished he had a jacket to put around Joey, who was visibly chilled. All he could do was pull the drummer near and try to use his own body heat to warm him. It was a long walk down the hallway to their room, and the further they went the closer Joey came to Mick. He wanted to say to Joey that he doubted the ghost of Harry Houdini was going to come out and scare them to death, but he also didn't want Joey to give him the silent treatment for the rest of the night. So, he just squeezed Joey's hand and said nothing.

As they approached the door to their room, Mick slowed to let Joey go first. The drummer laid a hand on the door knob and turned it slowly, his attention seemingly on the floor. Mick, though, didn't look away from Joey. And as the door opened, he watched with a smile the progression of emotion on Joey's face.

“Oh!” Joey gasped, stopping dead in the doorway. His mouth fell open in surprise, eyes wide as he took it all in. Red and white candles lay glowing on the floor and cabinets, matching the rose petals scattered around the bed. Warm flames were dancing in the fireplace, lighting the room in a gentle glow. The sweet smell of lavender scented the room from incense burning on the mantle.

“Oh wow...” Joey choked, holding his hands to his mouth. It was beautiful, and almost too much. He turned to face his partner. “You remembered?” he asked, his voice breaking as he fought to catch his breath.

“Joey... would I forget?” Mick grinned, raising his eyebrows. “Happy anniversary, baby.”  
The dam broke. Joey broke into sobs but smiled through the tears as Mick bent to hug him.

“I can't believe you did all this!” Joey cried. “I honestly thought you'd forgotten. That you cared more about a stupid football game.”

Mick had to hug him again. “Joey... you mean so much more to me than sport. You know that!” He took Joey's hand, leading them into the room and closing the door. He stopped them by the bed, the fire crackling close by.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, kissing Joey softly.

“I love you too,” Joey breathed as they parted, the tears drying with Mick's comfort.

“Come.” Mick smiled, and waved his hand at the bed. Joey stepped up to it, running his fingers through the luxurious layer of rose petals. He could feel Mick stop behind him, and raised his arms to allow his shirt to come over his head. Mick tossed it away, then pressed close again. Joey felt the guitarist's gentle hands glide down his chest, and he couldn't help but arch his back at the touch.

“Mmmmm...” he moaned softly, his legs starting to tremble.

Mick wasted no time in ridding him of his jeans and boxers, leaving him naked and beautiful. He turned Joey to look at him, and the awe on his face left the drummer shy.

“You too,” he said softly, reaching out to grasp Mick's shirt. The guitarist tugged it off, letting Joey expertly undo the buckle of his jeans. They pushed them down together, abandoning the clothes on the floor as they climbed onto the bed. Mick lay Joey against the pillows, the petals under their bodies soft against their skin.

“You are so beautiful,” Mick whispered, running his fingers down the pale, velvety skin of Joey's chest. “You are so beautiful...”

He leaned forward, his breath ghosting over the translucent skin under Joey's ear. He licked slowly, savouring the taste that made him tingle. Underneath him, Joey moaned and gasped, tilting his head to allow Mick better access.

Small hands were gripping his waist, clutching at him, and then Mick felt them run down his back. They touched and explored each other, remembering and mesmerising. They kissed gently, their lips seeking out flesh and pleasuring to the point of ecstasy. Joey whimpered as Mick found his hips, and spread him open. The first touch of skin against his sensitive inner thigh made him jerk and cry out, and then when Mick took him into his mouth he had grasp the bed sheets in his fingers so tight he nearly tore the fabric.

Mick massaged him with his tongue, sucking gently and tasting the tangy pre-ejaculate that swirled around his mouth. A finger probed Joey lower, eliciting an animalistic moan as it slid inside him and started to thrust. Just a few moments of stimulus was all that needed before Joey's body suddenly went still and the drummer came violently into his mouth, hands grasping the headboard so tightly they were white.

“Ohhhhh....” Joey sighed, his chest heaving as his lungs strained for air, trying to replenish the muscles that were still trembling in post-orgasmic bliss. Then Mick was above him and he opened his eyes lazily, smiling upwards and wrapping his legs around the body that was so close.

“You ok, baby?” he whispered, his face only inches away from Joey's.

“Yeah... I love you!” he replied desperately, unable to keep his body still as he needed Mick so much. Lips were kissing his forehead, and Joey felt Mick suddenly against him. He resisted the urge to close his eyes so he could watch his partner as he entered him, his face concentrating as he went slowly and carefully.

“Oh!” Joey gasped as he felt Mick finally inside him, holding still to let him adjust. And as he did, he squeezed Mick's arms, his signal to continue. Mick never rushed him, never pressured him. Joey felt his partner move in and out, so gentle inside as he kept a slow pace. They started to rock together, their hips dictating the speed and movement, and when Mick could tell Joey was ready he began to increase the rhythm. There was no fury in their lovemaking today, no desperate need for satisfaction, so Mick plateaued the speed. Still and even, still and even.

Joey was whimpering and moaning beneath him, his black hair spread around the pillow amongst a sea of red and white petals. The fire crackled behind him and the incense intoxicated their senses, culminating in an experience that Mick had wanted so badly for Joey. And when Joey opened those big blue eyes that captured him every day, he had to lean down to kiss the lips that parted for his touch: the red that was mirrored in the roses.

Those eyes widened and the fingers on his hips dug in, the body entwined with his began to tremble and a sweet gasp issued from the lips he worshipped. He watched, like he always did, as Joey came, his head tilting back on the pillow and sending petals cascading down onto his shoulders.

Mick ceased his movements, capturing Joey in a kiss as he released inside him. He could feel hands stroking his hair as his body trembled in orgasmic waves, and then heard a voice whisper to him as he breathed in deeply to ease his lungs.

“Mick...Mick....”

Fingers were smoothing his cheek, and then Joey was smiling up at him, face flushed and eyes shining. Mick slid out, laying down beside his partner and taking him into his arms. He kissed Joey softly, words not needed as they shared the moment.

A smile passed between them, and Mick knew there was something he needed to do.  
“I have something for you,” he whispered.

Joey shifted in curiosity, tilting his head to peer up at Mick. The guitarist only sat up slightly, bracing himself on an elbow. He indicated with his hand to a recess built into the headboard. From his angle he couldn't see, so Joey brought himself up to sit. Mick was smiling at him, just watching. Joey reached inside, his fingers closing over something soft and yielding.

Eyes narrowed in interest, he brought it out into the light of the room. It was a black rose, the petals glossy and silky. As a specimen it was perfect, and on its own, a special gift. But there was a gold ribbon tied around the stem, and Joey followed it with his fingers to the end. He saw it before he touched it. A gold ring, glinting in the glow cast by the fire. His breath caught in his throat, his fingers still on the cool metal as he froze in sheer surprise. He knew what that was.

“Mick?” he said, turning up to gaze at his beloved in delight.

“Joey? Will you marry me?” Mick asked, his voice cracking with emotion. He wanted Joey, always and forever.

“Yes. Oh god, yes!”

Tears tracked down Joey's face as he hugged Mick, his fingers still tightly wrapped around the gold ring he intended to never let go. His love for Mick was immeasurable, and now they had a physical connection, something that would show the world what they meant to each other.

Mick slid the ring onto Joey's finger; the perfect fit. The drummer caressed it with a finger before glancing back up to Mick, his eyes still glistening.

“I love it, Mick. It's beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” Mick smiled. “This is for you and me,” he added, so quietly he thought he might not have said it, but Joey nodded, knowing what he meant.

“You and me.”

**

It had been the most perfect night. And in the morning, when the golden sun was gleaming through the windows, Mick couldn't help but reflect on the memory. The black rose lay on the bedside table, the gold ribbon still wrapped around it, and he stared at it now. He hadn't laid the rose or the ribbon in the recess, much less tied the ring and the rose together. It could have only been Shawn when he came to light the candles and the fire, but it was a beautiful act.

The gold of the ribbon and the deep black of the rose went together as well as he and Joey did, and the ring that adorned his lover’s finger only proved that. He leaned forward now to kiss the sleeping man, laying his lips on his cheeks. Quietly, he rose from the bed and tiptoed out the door. He only needed water from the kitchen, but still he didn't like to leave. He strode down the corridor, keen to keep his mission brief. The hallway in daylight was free of ghouls, goblins and ghosts, and was almost irritatingly innocent. Only during the deep black of night did it appear so chilling as it had the eve before.

The kitchen was occupied only by Shawn, who sat at the table and rose as soon as Mick entered the room.

“Did you? Did he?” the percussionist asked, almost too excited to speak correctly.

“I did. He did. We're engaged,” Mick replied, grinning.

“Holy shit! That's fucking fantastic!” Shawn gave Mick a congratulatory hug, pleased for the both of them. “That's just awesome, man. You must be so happy. Did everything go ok?”

“Perfect!” Mick said. “The candles looked fantastic, and the petals were beautiful. Thanks so much for the black rose and the ribbon too, it made the ring look amazing. I wish I'd thought of it.” He saw the percussionist stiffen, and paused.

“What rose? What ribbon?” Shawn asked, completely confused. “If you mean the ring, I didn't touch it. Just checked to make sure you'd remembered to put it in the recess.”

Mick couldn't speak. If he hadn't put the rose and the ribbon with the ring, who had? He stared in shock. “You didn't tell anyone, did you Shawn?”

“No! No, I didn't. You know I wouldn't have!” Shawn protested.

Mick knew that was true, that he wouldn't have opened his mouth. It just wasn't Shawn.  
“There was a black rose in the recess. A gold ribbon was tied to it and the ring. Shawn... I thought you did it.”

Shawn just shook his head, his mouth open in surprise. “No... no. Not me. When I looked, it was just the ring.”

“That means it happened between when you left and we arrived.”

“And bro... all of us were in the living room. It wasn't one of the boys. There was no-one else in the house last night,” Shawn pointed out.

A chill ran through both of the men, despite the sun streaming through the air.

“Holy crap,” Mick breathed.

“Maybe this place is haunted,” Shawn offered. Mick wanted to shake his head and scoff, but he couldn't. No one else knew of the proposal. Just he and Shawn. No one else knew that the ring was in the recess.

“Shawn. Promise me you won't breathe a word of this to Joey,” Mick asked. The last thing he wanted was to scare the pants off of him.

“Do you think, even if I did, that'd he'd believe me?” Shawn said, wide-eyed. “But of course I won't.”

“Thanks.” Mick was too shocked to make further conversation. Shawn drifted back to the table and Mick poured himself a glass of water, sipping it without even thinking. It was too creepy, too unbelievable. He just didn't know who could have done it.

Shaking his head, he laid the glass on the bench and made his way back to the room. It was as he was halfway down the hallway he noticed a framed photograph hanging on the wall. He'd walked past it every day and never stopped to look. This time, he did.

It was of the house's original owner, Harry Houdini. A sitting portrait, it wasn't the quality of the photograph that took Mick's breath away. It was what was laying on a table next to the magician.

A black rose and a gold ribbon.


End file.
